Down to the Streets
by Valgoruth
Summary: One Shot short story. Previously published creative work.


**Down to the Streets**

_by JBRam_

_Sometimes I hate this job._ Michael walked up Main Street, watching everyone pass by. Every ten years, it was his job to come down to the streets of the world and oversee the tally of all humanity. Being an archangel had its downside sometimes. Through the course of history, mankind had become increasingly selfish, destructive, and hateful.

_Praise God that it is almost time._

Michael noticed Faith on the other side of the street, nearly doubled over in tears. He quickly crossed and ran toward Faith. "What's wrong, Faith?" Michael asked. He hadn't seen an angel cry so hard since the Dark Ages.

"I have never seen faith so low," she sobbed. "No one has faith anymore it seems! I feel useless…"

Michael looked around, concentrating on the faith of those walking by. So many placed faith in their paycheck, but almost none had even a glimmer of God's faith. Michael narrowed his view to Christians. On the busy street of downtown Secoville, Michael could only see a couple dozen cleansed souls. The angel was right; faith was lower than he had ever seen. At least ten souls had rejected their Christian upbringing altogether. Another dozen were placing all of their faith in their own goodness, thus making their pure faith lower than most of the non-Christians around. From what Michael could see, only Frank kept a strong relationship with God by reading his Bible and praying daily, at least until recently. Work was getting in the way again. _Like clockwork_, Michael thought. Every year from mid-November to the end of the Christmas season, Frank's industry kept the workers for longer hours than normal, making his quiet time with the Lord almost disappear. Today, however, Frank was heading toward his church. It had been too long since he had spent some time alone with God.

Michael tried to comfort Faith and moved on, following Frank towards the church. He felt like he needed to recharge as well after looking into the dark souls of men. Michael watched Frank head up the granite steps to the church entrance and pull on one of the doors. _Locked?! Since when has the house of God been locked? _Frank looked disappointedly at the door, then turned away. However, physical doors cannot stop a determined angel. After watching the dejected parishioner walk away, Michael passed through the closed doors. He entered the sanctuary and approached the altar to pray, but Michael immediately felt something missing. As the mighty archangel kneeled down, he noticed what it was. God's presence was not in the locked church. Michael was stunned. Ten years ago, this church had been in excellent health and growing, but now it was dead?

The archangel searched the church's memories, attempting to find the time where they lost God's presence. He skipped past the adultery of the minister when he saw God's forgiveness next to it. He paused when the deacons declared their antagonistic standpoint on the "King James Version Only" belief, noting that this may have started the downfall. Browsing through the memories, he found what he was looking for. After years of neglect of the poor and needy and ignoring the pleas of the lost, the church finally split over the color of the new carpet. Michael looked down at the floor and decided that they had chosen the wrong color anyways. That shade of green was not worth splitting a church over.

Michael couldn't stand being in the dark church any longer. He left it and Secoville as well, traveling to the next town over, Perso. People had always generally been more faithful in small towns like Perso, but even this was changing as they were slowly becoming overrun by the cities.

He headed towards the pastor of the New Hope Church of Perso, after seeing Charity standing by him. She pointed to a homeless woman digging around in the church's garbage can and whispered to the minister. Michael was shocked to see the Reverend shrug her off and walk away. Michael ran up to Charity, who sat down open-mouthed on the curb.

"I can't believe it," Charity sighed. She looked questioningly at Michael. "He always used to have so much love for people. What happened?"

"Ten years can really change someone," Michael replied sadly.

Charity looked at the poor woman. "We have to help her," she said. Charity walked over to another parishioner named Amy who happened to be walking by. When Charity whispered softly in her ear, Amy stopped and looked at the homeless woman for a second, then offered her jacket to her. "At least Amy still has some love in her," Charity said, relieved.

Michael smiled, his heart warmed by the woman's love. _Her humility will not go unrewarded. _He would have to tell Meek to have a chat with the Reverend as soon as the tally was complete. Michael could already tell that he was not going to have a good report for his Lord.

-----

"The tally has not gone well, Lord," Michael said. "The Christians have lost their first love."

"Like the church of Laodicea*, I am about to spew this lukewarm church from out of my mouth," God replied. "I have been knocking at their hearts' doors for many years, yet more close each day. The end is soon to come, and the church will not notice it happening. Thank you, Michael. Although the news you bring grieves me, it was not unexpected."

Michael bowed low to the ground in reverence. As he turned to leave, he was amazed to see a tear fall from Jehovah's eye and land at the foot of His throne.

*Revelation 3:1-10.

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**A/N:** This short story was published in a Christian campus literary magazine called _Doulos _during the Spring 2008 Issue.


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